The Archon's Mask
by eternity of black
Summary: Ripper the bandit is dying in brightwood when an ancient tomb spares his life, at the price of releasing and ancient and terrible evil. Now Ripper must choose between ultimate power and salvation. With the very fate of Albion hanging in the balance.
1. Chapter 1

This is a fable 2 fic. The main character is going to be the bandit ripper from the red harvest quest and some other people you'll recognize if you played either fable games.

Also, for the love of god and all that is holy i'm tired of posting stories on this site and getting next to no reviews for them. So if you read this tell me what you think in a review.

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Ripper the bandit pulled his hand off the bloody mess that was now his torso and examined the damage.  
Just as he had feared, it was a mortal wound. He cursed that damn hero to hell as he crawled through the bushes and shrubs of Brightwood trying to fight off death as long as he could.

He finally settled himself against the side of a hill while he contemplated his life. His time in Albion had been truly savage to say the least. His youth had been spent with the traveling gypsy camp that now called Bower Lake thier home. He had loathed them, those filthy gypsy scum. They had found him when he was just a baby, abandoned on the side of one of the countless trails in this country.

He had always hated them for taking him in. He would have rather died on the side of a road as an infant than be forced into a life of poverty and oppression. The only gypsy's that had ever left the camp were either stone cutters or adventurer's, and he'd had the talent for neither.

So he had instead chosen to become a merciless bandit, taking what he needed with a sword. He couldn't honestly say he was proud of his life, but he didn't regret it for a second. He made his choices and now he was going to die with them, simple as that. But he didn't want to die out here in the woods for some Balverine or disguting little hobbe to have as a tasty snack.

He looked around and noticed an ancient looking stone slab sticking out of the ground a little ways off. Ignoring the soon to be fatal pain he left a bloody trail as he crawled to it. When he got closer he saw there were symbols inscribed on it, but not just any symbols. Gypsy symbols, needless to say he was suprised.

He had heard stories that the gypsy's had been more important in ancient times than they are now, but he had always just dismissed them as lies. He crawled until he was close enough to read them before his vision began to blur. He could barely read the symbols because of the blood loss but he managed, he had always been resilent to pain after all.

"Here lies the one from the void, the most ancient and terrible of all evils. This is not only his tomb, it is his prison." Read the inscription. Ripper didn't quite know what to make of this, but it didn't bother him too much. He was tired and cold. Ripper laid his body down next to the stone slab, ready to die a bandits death.

His blood poured out from his body and stained the slab red. It began to glow and speak as if it were alive but Ripper hardly noticed. He closed his eyes as his heart stopped beating, but death was not his destiny.

Not on this day.


	2. Chapter 2

To almostinsane: Thanks for the review! Reviews are what give the creative juices to cintinue my story's so keep it up!  
As too the Jack of blades thing, not sure yet but he will play a part in this story.

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Rippers eyes shot open, he sat up and examined his wound. Only to find it was no longer there. He looked around and saw he was still in Brightwood, he scratched his head confused. Then he remembered the slab. He turned to it and was surprised to see it had moved, revealing a set of stairs leading into darkness.

He couldn't help but think he shouldn't go down them, that something unnatural or evil lurked there. However, his curiosity got the better of him and he made his way into the tomb. After minutes of nothing but darkness he came into a long stone hallway with torches on the walls. Ripper knew places like these often housed hollow men and was on his guard.

Soon the hallway opened up into a large circular room. On the walls were ancient artifacts, what he assumed must have been the trophy's of a long dead hero. The long lost Bow of Skorm, the helmet of the ancient hero Thunder, and an array of meele weapons he recognized from some old books he had found as a child. The Cutlass Bluetane, The Katana Hiryu, and Ronok the Axe. His jaw dropped in amazement.  
Ripper had heard the story of the hero who had killed Jack of Blades, every child in Albion had, but he had never expected to stumble upon said heros tomb in the middle of nowhere.

He then looked to the middle of the chamber and he didn't believe his eyes. Stuck into a stone slab was the Sword of Aeons, with Jack of Blades mask resting on top of it. In the far corner of the room, overlooking the sword sat the skeletal remains of the Hero of Oakvale.  
Ripper the bandit had heard tales of the sword, a sword so powerful it could change all of Albion with its strength.

His bandit instincts took over as he took both the Bow of Skorm as well as the meele weapons, he could feel thier awesome power. He threw off his bandits helmet and replaced it with Thunders, as he made his way towards the Sword of Aeons. He debated weather or not to take it,  
as it had long been said it was a cursed sword, but eventually his greed got the better of him and he placed the sword over his back.

The only thing that remained was the mask, Ripper felt a dark presence coming from it. He had the strangest, almost irresitable urge to put it on. It was as if the mask was calling to him, telling him all his dreams of power and immortaility would come to fruition if only he were to wear it.

He shook the feelings aside and placed the mask into his sack, it just felt wrong to leave it. He didn't want to wear it but at the same time he didn't want to leave it either. He gave the ancient skeleton one last glance as he left the tomb, armed with the weapons of the most powerful hero ever to live in all of Albion. 


	3. Chapter 3

Ripper will come across the hero from Fable 2 soon. Probably within the next few chapters, and the hero will be called conjurer because that was my heros title and by god its a good one.

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Ripper left the tomb feeling like all of Albion was his for the taking. But every good bandit needs some bandit followers, hell with these weapons he could probably raise a whole bandit army. But first things first, he started looking for anyone who may have survived the battle with that damn hero. His camp was a ways off but he could be there before nightfall.

On the way he happened to run into some of those pesky hobbes, perfect opportunity to test out his new equipment. First up was the Bow of Skorm, Ripper had always been fond of bows, too bad they were so outdated now. He took aim and let an arrow fly, it struck the hobbe square in the head. The ugly thing fell to the ground and withered into nothing more than a pile of ash. Ripper liked that.

The remaining four beasts charged at him stupidly, so he switched to the Katana Hiryu. It was light and quick, a good sword for crowds.  
The first pathetic hobbe jumped at him and he sliced it in half across the midsection. He noticed it left burn marks, excellent. He had always wanted an augmented weapon, looks like he had several of them now. He pulled out the Ronok Axe with his other hand and found it packed a little more punch than the Hiryu. Within seconds the small hobbe force was reduced to nothing but blood and guts on the road.

As he put away his weapons and continued he didn't notice the hobbe hiding in the tree above him, that is until it jumped down and stabbed him through the lung. He quickly dispatched it before examining the wound, and what he saw made him laugh. Right after he had uncovered some of the most ancient and powerful weapons in the world an insignificant little hobbe had fatally wounded him. How absolutly ironic.

He sat against a tree in disbelieve, when Thunders helmet began to glow. Golden lines traveled down his neck to the wound, and began to mend his flesh. The life ending cut closed, and within seconds only a tiny scar remained. Ripper smiled and stood up.

"Thats a nice trick." he said to himself as he continued to his camp. He couldn't help but smile as he tried to decide which town he should sack first. Bowerstone? Oakfield? Perhaps Westclif? No, as soon as it came to mind he knew Bloodstone would be his first city. It had started out as the great bandit Twinblades camp after all, and it would be an easy target because there where no guards. The townsfolk fended for themselves, and that ment he would probably gain a large number of followers to boot.

The more he thought about what he was going to do the wider his smile grew. 


End file.
